


Everything Was Beautiful (And Nothing Hurt)

by sinistermin8



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Blood, Death, Gore, Psychoteeth, Self Harm, Stabbing, Suicide, Violence, how delightful, michael snapped, psycho!michael, rip gavin and lil j, severe insanity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 04:30:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15016712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinistermin8/pseuds/sinistermin8
Summary: Michael is sick of everything being so beautiful and untouched and pristine. He's sick of being betrayed. He's sick of beautiful people betraying him.





	Everything Was Beautiful (And Nothing Hurt)

**Author's Note:**

> michael murders people. it's extremely graphic. kind of a vent fic so i didn't put much effort into making certain parts coherent.
> 
> https://mikeyjarvis.tumblr.com/ <3

It was bloody. It was brutal. It was violent and fast and the noises evoked from Gavin's throat were the most disgusting thing Michael had ever heard.

But he couldn't stop.

He just couldn't bring himself to stop. The scissors sunk into his stomach, into the side of his neck, into his chest but slightly skewed to the left to avoid immediate death with a blow to the heart.

Into his eye. Into his forehead. 

Blood splattered all across Michael's hands, face, and chest. It pooled on the carpet and sunk into the fabric and the stench was choking. But Michael just couldn't stop.

Gavin was dead long ago. Michael watched the light fade from his gorgeous, innocent green eyes with one desperately gasping cry of his name. 

_"Mi- Mic- Michae.. L.. !!"_

Poor thing could hardly get the word out. Michael replayed it over and over again in his mind.

And he just laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed as the scissors pierced every empty expanse of skin he could find on Gavin's body, which was quickly draining red warmth onto the floor.

"Go ahead. Go complain to your real best friend.. " He hissed out quietly. He took the scissors to the left corner of Gavin's mouth and snip snip snipped until he was grinning so brightly, all of his straight white perfect teeth exposed and drenched in his own blood. He cut the other side to match.

"I always loved your smile. Loved it. Loved it. So much. Loved so much about you.. "

Gavin's eyes were fading slowly from green and black to white and blue and then nothing but white with red in his left eye where Michael had sunk the scissors into him. This wasn't Gavin anymore. He was just another corpse. 

"The next person who walks in this room.. "

Michael couldn't finish his sentence. He really didn't care enough. He slit Gavin's wrists with the scissors and grinned wildly at the skin that used to be so pristine and smooth now littered with cuts and blood. 

He stood up with stumble. His auburn curls clung to his forehead with exhilarated sweat and he huffed into the now deafening silence. 

There was footsteps at the door. Frantic, then hesitant. Then the door opened and Jeremy was pulled inside and the door was shut and then a knife and it was over in an instant.

He was on the floor with a near silent, broken cry. The scissors stayed in his neck and blood dripped around the blade that had pierced his vocal chords and likely his esophagus as blood gurgled up from his throat and dripped from the corner of his mouth, slumping pathetically against the side of the couch. 

"What did I fucking tell you?" Michael twisted the scissors around a bit. His eyes had such a wicked glint, Jeremy was more terrified at the prospect of Michael's enjoyment of the situation rather than the situation itself.

"Say you're sorry. Say it. This is all your fucking fault. Say you're sorry! For Gavin! Your stupid fucking 'Mad King In Training' ploy.. Oh, you were gonna be the first to snap, weren't you? You could've taken me out in a second. But I got the jump on you. Does that make me a better killer than you? Sure it does! Sure it does.. Now, say you're sorry. Say it or I turn you into a damn pincushion with you and Ryan's knives. Wouldn't that just be so adorably ironic?"

Jeremy couldn't get a word out. His eyes rolled back and he let out some choked cry, but it wasn't satisfying for Michael. He jammed the scissors in deeper with a solid hit from the butt of his palm and stood up, wiping a bit of blood from his face, and grabbing Ryan's signature knife cup. What an attention seeker. His whole trope was oh-so-hilarious.

Michael unsheathed the first knife. It was a nice knife that he recognized as a replica from CS:GO. Emerald Bowie. It glimmered under the half broken lights. 

He stuck it into Jeremy's chest. Not deep enough to puncture anything but his lung. Right between the ribs so there was almost no resistance. Jeremy coughed violently and blood splattered onto Michael's face.

Michael only laughed. He unfolded the next one. It was iridescent and intricately carved into something so beautiful and disgusting and Michael hated it. Everything beautiful.. Everything perfect.. Horrible. He had to make it disgusting. He wanted the whole world to be as disgusting as he felt. That's why he started with Gavin. Ryan was his next target, really, but he couldn't risk witnesses before he got to him.

It went in smoothly below Jeremy's collarbone. The blood didn't come rushing out because so much care was put into pushing it in slowly, carefully, digging it in until Jeremy's writhing was reduced to a numb twitch.

Another knife. And another. And then two more. And then the rest of the cup.

Into his chest. His stomach. His arms. The second to last one went straight into his throat and Michael laughed as he watched the life draining from his eyes along with his blood.

His fingers twitched, and there was still a bit of life in his movements. So Michael cut off Jeremy's fingers. One by one, with the last knife he held. He moved Jeremy onto the couch. He felt the weakest heartbeat, the last glimmer of hope that he would be saved.

So Michael lodged the last knife into his heart. Without the knife, he would've had 30 seconds at most. No harm done.

The knife was removed and no blood followed. It was all spilled down the front of his shirt and onto the carpet and the couch and good lord it was _everywhere,_ this was gonna be a bitch to clean.

Michael stared at the knife. His gaze raked over it with a frantic look and trembling fingers traced over the edge and his heart raced.

He took off his hoodie. He sat Gavin's corpse up against the wall and wrapped it around his slim shoulders. It covered a good majority of the wounds when it was zipped up and Gavin almost looked peaceful, save for the throat and eye and forehead wounds. 

Michael looked at Jeremy's corpse. He looked equally as peaceful, a great knife holder that Michael thought he'd love to use as decoration one day. Too bad none of those knives were his. 

Michael looked at his own wrists. Clean. Perfect. The skin was smooth and pale and just _too_ nice. He couldn't stand to look at it. He wanted to slit Ryan's throat first, but.. God, he wasn't even sure where Ryan was right now. 

He took the knife to his wrist where the blue artery protruded slightly. His hand bent back in a fist to expose it a bit more.

The cut was deep and quick and god it stung, but the rush of blood that filled his whole arm and warmed his entire body save for his head was intoxicating. He took the knife to his other wrist. The cut was a bit sloppy, but it was no bother.

He took the knife to the first cut. It was clean and blood seeped from the edges, dripping onto his shoes. He cut down the length of his forearm and blood beaded on it like the most disgusting cross to ever grace the bible. 

He laughed. He laughed and he laughed and he laughed and he sobbed through his hysterics. He was quickly becoming lightheaded and his vision was blacking out at the edges. He couldn't breathe. But he just laughed and laughed and laughed. He collapsed to the ground and was vaguely aware of shrieks and gasps from the door that he didn't remember ever being open. He heard Geoff sob. 

He just laughed and laughed and laughed. He laughed until he couldn't move anymore. He laughed until no sound came out. Nothing came out save for his tears, mixing with the blood of his two former best friends splattered across his face. 

In his head, he was laughing. Gently. A satisfied giggle. A little sigh. A little whisper to acknowledge Ryan's hands on his trembling shoulders but nothing came out.

Nothing. Nothing was left of Mr. Michael Jones.

 

 


End file.
